it gets stuck in your head
by gidget89
Summary: For the very first time he saw that perhaps he could look at her forever and never truly know. It thrilled him and scared him all at once.


**A/N: **_Bit of a warning with this fic - I don't quite like it myself? But it seems selfish to leave it gathering dust on my harddrive when I've had two seperate second opinions telling me I'm mad. It fits into 6x02, between finding Amy gone and going back to the abandoned warehouse - but isn't canon exactly, because the rest of the episode wouldn't really follow after this exactly the same? So it's just a little tangent type, would shoulda coulda happened thing._

_I just have to post it before I grow to dislike it even more lol. *flings and runs*_

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><p><em><strong>it gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth<strong>_

It was the most difficult thing to do – waiting. Just _waiting _and _waiting_ while he fine-tuned and assembled the plan. He knew he had to send a message – but what? They needed something they could use, and the only place they could get it from required Canton to stay with the injured Silent, and required them to stay in the same time stream in order to receive the incoming message.

The waiting was made all the more difficult by seeing Rory, wandering aimlessly around the Tardis, with Amy's transmitter clutched in his hand as he listened to her cries for help. It was eerie, and he knew that River tried to convince Rory several times to just _stop_ listening – it wouldn't do anything but drive Rory mad – but Rory refused, became angry at her insistence and snapped at her that she couldn't possibly ask him to do that.

'_What if it were him?_'

River backed off then, and the Doctor had heard the words from the control room even though they were both down the hall from him. Her immediate withdrawal drove home once again the irrefutable fact of River Song's feelings for him. And he didn't quite know what to do about that. So he shifted around the console and played with buttons that didn't do _anything_.

She walked back into the control room with a soft sigh. "Maybe you should try." Her suggestion was soft and the Doctor shook his head, adamantly.

"I- I can't ask him to stop, River. I can't. He wouldn't listen to me anyway – especially not to me." She moved up the stairs until she was leaning against the console by his side, her gaze sceptical.

"Don't ask him to stop listening – but just – he needs to _talk_ to somebody. He needs to talk to _you_." She pointed this out calmly and he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at her, guilt stamped all across his face.

"I don't know what I'd say." He was asking her for advice and she smiled slightly, placing a hand on his forearm and squeezing just a bit. He blinked down at her hand, studying it intently. They were quite small actually – especially compared to his. But her hands were strong. Small, but so strong.

"Maybe you should just listen." She turned to the console and ran her fingers over switches and gears before reaching up and pulling the screen around to where she could see it. He watched her for a moment – opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, instead shoving his hands in his pockets as he wandered down the hall she had just emerged from.

He found Rory in the library, transmitter still in hand as he listened to the sound of Amy's breathing. There were no cries at the moment – and the Doctor was more than thankful for it. "Rory?"

Rory sat up quickly, wiping at his eyes unobtrusively and the Doctor hung back for a moment, in a rare display of understanding. "Yeah?" Rory's voice was thick with strain and he refused to look at the Doctor as he moved further in to the room, choosing a chair across from Rory's and settling in to it. "You're not going to start in about me not listening are you?"

"Absolutely not."

Rory sighed and his hand curled around the glowing transmitter, muffling the sounds of Amy's even breaths. "Good. River is just – "

"She means well." The Doctor interrupted in a soft voice and Rory huffed, his shoulders rising and drawing in.

"That's rich, coming from _you_ Doctor. I mean pardon me, but one moment you're declaring her completely untrustworthy and the next you're defending her intentions?" Rory's hand tightened until it was a fist and he shook his head. "Sorry – I'm sorry. Didn't mean to say that. I just – I don't know what's-"

"It's all right Rory. I understand. Or rather I don't understand it myself. River. I still don't trust her, and yet..." Rory glanced up at his words, and he looked conflicted for a moment.

"I think you should." He spoke finally after a moment of pause. The Doctor stared at him in surprise, before he waved his hands at Rory, indicating for him to go on. "I mean, I get why you don't want to. But honestly I think you know that the reason she can't tell you anything is because you told her. Future you, I mean. It's all very complicated isn't it? But she – she seems like she's alright."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at the man across from him, and studied him for a moment. "You were about to say something else. Something you know, but won't tell. What did you see? What happened before I arrived in Utah Rory?"

"Can't tell you that." Rory shook his head tersely and the Doctor sighed in frustration.

"Why? On whose say-so?" He leaned forward as he spoke and Rory avoided his gaze, unclenching his fist and staring down at the tiny glowing device in his palm.

"What I can tell you is this – River would do anything you asked her to. I know. I've seen it. And she knows that she's fast approaching the day you won't know her anymore. She told me that you know, down in the tunnels. You're going back to front. She just – I don't know. I like her." He paused, and glanced at the Doctor in horror. "Not you know, not _like that_ – just... she doesn't talk down to me. And she discusses things with me – just you know, assuming I'd understand and I just... like her. Amy does too. Maybe just trust your instincts on this one, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded, and sat up sheepishly, his elbows braced against his knees. "I was supposed to be listening to you, you know. God I really am rubbish at this sort of stuff."

"Nah." Rory waved dismissively. "Distractions are nice. Do you think Canton will get what we need soon? We will be able to just skip ahead once he does, right Doctor?"

"Oh absolutely Rory. Rory the Roman – I promise – I _promise _you – as soon as we get what we need we will skip right ahead to the rescue." He placed a hand on Rory's shoulder and squeezed slightly. "She knows you're coming, Rory. After two thousand years – what's a few days?"

Rory nodded, before standing. "I'm just gonna... go to our room. I just, I don't know, maybe sleep a bit or lay there and close my eyes and pretend she's just asleep next to me. That'd be nice." Rory gave him a pained smile before lifting a hand awkwardly and moving out of the Library. The Doctor sat there for a while after he'd left, contemplating the conversation.

_You're going back to front_.

He frowned, and thought about what that really meant for them. Each time they met she would know less and he would know more. As much guilt and pain as he carried about how they'd met, it never crossed his mind that he would never be on the same page as her in that infuriating diary, not once between now and when he meets her.

But then he recalls her words to him as he sat handcuffed to that wall, watching her sacrifice herself helplessly. He'd given her the sonic – taken her to see the Towers. And if it were all _truly _back to front, he'd have done that already. No – he'd save that night. The last for both of them, and he wouldn't do it until after he'd reached his end of the timeline.

One night where they would be finally, _finally_ on the same page, same level, same everything. He had no idea what that was going to be – but he held that thought to him dearly. But _she_ didn't know about that night – it hadn't happened for her yet. She was just barrelling along under the assumption that judging by his reactions she was nearing the end.

"Doctor, I was thinking that we could take the suit to the warehouse – study it a bit while we wait for Canton. I suppose I could do it here in the Tardis, but I don't quite like the idea of it – or if she even has the laboratory this time." River spoke as she walked, her PDA in hand as she concentrated on the small screen. "There's just too many anomalous readings..." She glanced up at that and her forward momentum slid to a halt as she stilled and studied his face. "Are you okay?"

He stared at her for a moment – her curly mane, the curve of her shoulders, the shape of her waist. Looking at her in stillness, there was no denying she was beautiful. But seeing her in action, all confident swagger and smirks and bright eyes that held secrets upon secrets locked away in her soul – and he never could resist locked away _anything_ – seeing her like that was to _see_ her fully. She was mysterious. Beautiful. Mischievous. Divine.

"I don't know." He finally responded to her question and she looked at him intently before moving closer and kneeling on the floor by his chair. She laid her PDA aside and placed a hand on his forearm.

"Did it not go well with Rory?" She questioned in a quiet voice. "I saw him go to his room earlier – he looked a bit better."

He laughed slightly, covering her hand with his own and watching in amusement as she jumped at the slight skin on skin contact. Her skin was soft, softer than it should be given the limited amount he knew of her life when she was away from him. "I doubt I helped much – if at all. In fact he probably helped me more than I helped him." He paused and looked down in her eyes intently for a moment. "River?"

"Yes?" She was looking at him expectantly and he raised a hand, the tips of his fingers just brushing against the soft ends of her hair.

"You and Rory – down in the tunnels with the Silence. What'd you – did you discuss anything?" She licked her lips and rocked back onto her heels for a moment before sighing softly.

"He told you." She said it flatly – it wasn't a question – and her hand tightened on his arm for just a moment.

"Yes." He spoke quickly and she looked up at him, infinite sadness shadowing the mysteries in her eyes. For the first time he felt something in his very hearts tug at the look in her eyes. For the very first time he saw that perhaps he could look at her forever and never truly _know_. It thrilled him and scared him all at once. "Well no, not _exactly_. But he said that you said we were – you and I were – back to front. What does that mean?"

She sighed heavily and leaned forward somewhat, until he could feel her breath on his skin. "It is exactly as it sounds, Doctor. The first time I meet you is the last time you'll meet me. And I assume, the reverse is true?" She looks up into his eyes then and he glances away quickly – the memory is painful, and it is growing more painful with each day he lived past it. Because he hadn't known then, not really. And he barely knew _now_. He had a notion that the day she first met him it would be the most painful of all. He mourned her _more_ the more time that passed.

"That's just – " He struggled to articulate his feelings and she released his arm and moved a hand up to his face, placing it there gently.

"I know."

"Then _why_? Why would you do it – why would you put yourself through this River?" It was a question that plagued him. For him – well while he might not _know _her he could see why he would walk this path. Because he'd already started. Because he could never resist a mystery. Because her devotion to him drew his hearts like magnets to a pole.

She laughed softly, and her fingers curled under his jaw, moving slightly, the tiniest of caresses. "You say that like I had a choice, Doctor."

He felt her words reverberate through him – a painful echo that would not cease. He'd been lamenting the inevitability of their association, cursing the sense of obligation, pushing her away because he resented her for doing this to him. But – but clearly in her past, their roles would be reversed. How could he be so selfish to get her involved with his life? But even as he thought it, he knew. He _knew_. Companions were one thing – friends to keep him company, an affectionate love for their innocence and their _humanity. _But River was something else entirely – he could see it in her eyes, in the words she'd whispered in his ear so long ago. And if he were being perfectly honest he could feel the difference in his hearts already. She was not pure. Or innocent. She did not need him, yet willingly chose to have him by her side as often as possible. She knew him, and it made him mad but also made him talk with her on a level that was entirely different than he could with anyone else. Sometimes she just read his intent with a glance; sometimes he barely needed words at all.

"Don't sweetie, don't do that. I don't – listen to me." She took his face in her hands and waited until his eyes met hers. "I am _so_ glad I had no choice. I wouldn't have wanted one and even if you'd given me one, I would have chosen this. This life. I know it's backwards and painful and convoluted, but I wouldn't trade _one second_ of it. Something in me knew – the first time I saw you."

He stared at her for a beat, and then leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers, and her nails scratched the underside of his jaw oh so gently. Something in him had known too. Could he say the same? If she'd given him a choice that day – in the Library? If she'd said that oh yes, he could re-write time and write her existence out of his to save her? Would he have? Not knowing anything about her except for the fact that he knew even then – the diary and the sonic and his name – he knew that his future self had loved her. He doesn't think he would choose a life free of her, even infuriating as she was at times with her laughter and her promises that she made without telling him what she was promising at all. "Me too." His words were soft and she pulled back, a question hovering in her eyes.

"When you meet me-" He put a finger over her lips, halted the flow of words before they could escape.

"Spoilers." He is sporting a tiny grin as he says it and she laughs, genuinely.

"It's been so long since I've heard you say that to me." She smiled with genuine fondness and he slid his hand from her chin to rest on the side of her neck, under her hair. The curls brushed the back of his hand gently and he suddenly wished he just had more _time_. Maybe – maybe after this crisis was over – maybe she could come with them. Rory liked her, and Amy too. And things were more exciting with River around. Maybe he could ask her to stay – afterward. Just for a little while longer. Maybe he could cheat time – a little bit – just this once.


End file.
